01/08/01
" gods are created letter by letter, note by note, brushstroke by brushstroke"
This drug makes you feel awful....clue in. I started taking Paxil about six months ago. I 'd recently relocated to San Diego from Los Angeles. About a week after I started taking it (for depression and acute anxiety), I began to fixate on substance. This is how it went: 2:30, wake up with my boyfriend (too much substance the night before), stumble to the freezer, pull out the vodka, make a cocktail and then breathe. After that, we'd go out to eat (drink), get too hammered then put in the call for the cocaine delivery boy. Note: I've never had an affinity for cocaine in my lifetime. So right, do that, then go through copious amounts of blow throughout the evening and neatly swallow two milligrams of Valium and/or Xanax...whatever...to go to sleep. Then we woke up at 2:30 again.....you know the drill. The funny thing is, I didn't get suspicious of the Paxil yet because the cocaine and the alcohol balanced my head. I didn't even stop to question WHY I had taken up these habits. I didn't notice. All I knew was these substances were what I needed to maintain. I got off the Paxil...(lazy, hung over, high, didn't go to the doctor) because I ran out. We all know what happened then; if not, scroll up. I went back to my doctor and got six months worth of free samples along with an application for home delivery from Smith-Kline Beecham of ninety pills every three months. Every three months. And there I am...I wake up, I take my pill, I head to the freezer. If I was lucky enough to have any energy, I would soon start making the 'fuck you' and 'I love you' phone calls. I descended into extreme affection with turns of extreme antagonism. I would dream about drugs, alcohol. The scariest thing is when I started to dream about wanting things I couldn't name, let alone ask for. I woke up gritting my teeth. At this point I was at 1.75 litres of vodka a day...no job, all naps. In fact I'd lost my job because of calling in sick too much and being all too clear about what was wrong with the company. That's just it....I maintained my wits, I just projected them in a way too manic and frontal fashion. I could think clearly but couldn't control my mouth. At this point, I was in a very bad living situation. So, despite what I would normally do to save my soul and sanity (movement), I laid in bed and drank. And smoked way too much. I fell down, I knocked the ashtrays over, and I woke from my reverie before the ice cubes could even melt and, yes, made another drink. My cat box (serving four cats, all rescues, and beautiful), went for two weeks or so before I would think to pick up some litter at the liquor store. Vodka and cat litter, only, natch. Well, and tonic. I was so horribly miserable I couldn't even get up to pack my clothes (hung on the floor) and get the fuck out of there. My best friend came to get me. She packed my clothes, fed me (imagine that, food) and brought me back to LA. I stopped Paxil seven days after I got here...and on the sixth day after I quit, I almost killed myself in her kitchen. Another note: I've never been suicidal in my lifetime, or self abusive (physically). All I could do for an hour and a half was stare at the knives in the knife block and jones for the pain. I called a friend at the last minute because I knew that's what you have to do before you commit such a selfish crime. She talked me down out of the tree and in the morning I couldn't believe where I'd been. This is confusion. Oh yes, and confusion....I couldn't decipher between waking and dreaming state. Nice. One morning I couldn't pull out of a dream....there was this woman in my face...she looked nice but felt awful. She wouldn't go away and she kept getting closer, so I reached out and grabbed her head, and broke her neck. At the very same moment (as I was twisting her neck), I woke up and realized that it was my sweet, favored black Burmese cat who's head was in my hand. I didn't hurt her, but I cried for hours over how it could have been. She's sitting on me now. This is all true. Fucking real. Should you wish to contact me or view me, my address is Lilyvillain@hotmail.com, and my website is www.vanillacream.com. Please don't take this shit. Bad, bad bad bad bad bad. I've kicked it, but still drinking, although not as much. Cheers, and may the muses kiss all of your heads. Lily
© Lily Vandervillain 2001